Wednesday is choir night for me -- blessed, blessed choir night. My one night of the week where I can flop childless into the open arms of adult conversation (with great background music!) The ladies in my alto section are wonderful, warm, funny women and I cherish them, so it is no surprise that the door is hitting me in the backside as I run out to the car every Wednesday evening.
That leaves Rob with the children, which is fine because they are his kids and he is more than capable of handling them (I hate it when people ask dads if they are "babysitting"). I have complete confidence that the children will be in as good or better condition than when I left them. (Here comes the but . . . .)
But no one is immune to entropy, and tonight it was Rob's turn. When I left, Older Girl and The Boy were quietly playing downstairs and Rob was getting ready to feed Baby Girl and put her in bed. All was calm, all was bright . . .
Baby Girl fell asleep in the middle of her bottle and so Rob laid her in the crib and went to get the other two into bed. After the uneventful teeth-brushing, The Boy went in to kiss Older Girl goodnight and that's when the crying started. Apparently, Older Girl didn't deem it necessary to rise up and meet her brother halfway for the goodnight kiss and he, The Boy of Vestibular Dysfunction, lost his balance and fell headfirst into the iron scrollwork of her footboard (lovely, but so hard on the skull). He cut his eye, and although the bleeding was fairly easily stopped, the damage had been done. He was overtired and now injured, so the tears just kept on comin'.
Meanwhile, Rob asked Older Girl to go get her pajamas from the dryer, but of course she can't go into the basement alone (!) and just the fact that Rob asked her to put herself in peril in the inky darkness of the laundry room was cause for tears. (Forget about the fact that we have those new-fangled electric lights and all . . .)
Rob fast-tracked both wailing older children to bed, and then Baby Girl decided that she'd like to add her two cents. It was a tearful trifecta. Rob tried to see if she would like to finish her bottle, only to have her lift her dainty head and throw up all over him. Nice.
So he changed her pajamas and he changed his shirt and put the baby to bed, where she went happily into that good night.
Now I'm home, and all three are asleep and all is right with the world . . . for now.
Of course, I have to get the Older Girl to school again tomorrow, so keep your fingers crossed!